[The deBurghs 07] - Reynold De Burgh: The Dark Knight by Deborah Simmons Page A

dragon lore. ‘Didn’t someone just beat it with a club?’ he finally asked.
    A long silence followed while Peregrine presumably mulled over that idea before ultimately rejecting it. ‘I don’t see how the creature would sit still for that. What’s to stop it from flying away, and what about its tail and breath?’
    Reynold agreed with a grunt. And who knew if any of the accounts were based upon fact? How many dragon-slayers lived to tell the tale? And how many such valiant acts were witnessed?
    ‘I know I’ve heard stories where the hero digs a trench and hides in it in order to smite the beast’s belly,’ Peregrine said. ‘But that would take a lot of time and labour, especially with no one else to help. Do you think a hole would work just as well?’
    Reynold could not picture crouching in a freshly dug hollow waiting for an opportunity to poke the underside of anything, let alone a ferocious beast. But it was just the sort of tactic Geoff might suggest and Simon would dismiss as faint-hearted.
    ‘That’s if the belly really is vulnerable. Some say it is, and others say it isn’t,’ Peregrine said. ‘And, you’ll need some protective garments, of course.’
    Protective garments? Reynold had his short mail coat and some gauntlets, but no shield or helmet. If he had planned on going into battle, he would have brought Will and all his gear.
    ‘But it shouldn’t be too hard to make some fur breeches and soak them in tar,’ Peregrine said.
    Fur breeches ? The day he donned such things would be the day his brothers all laughed themselves to death, worm or no worm. ‘I don’t think we need to go that far,’ Reynold said in a tone that brooked no argument.
    ‘There are several stories like that of the founding of Grim’s End, where a local hero slayed the dragon and was rewarded with rich lands,’ Peregrine said. ‘One such fellow pushed a big stone into its mouth.’
    ‘And how did he get it to hold still for that?’ Reynold asked.
    Peregrine had no ready answer. ‘Others used poison,’ he suggested.
    Although that sounded more feasible, it would require a significant amount of a deadly substance, of which Reynold knew nothing. However, his squire certainly seemed well versed in a variety of subjects. ‘Where did you hear all these tales? Can you read?’ Reynold asked.
    ‘Of course, my lord. The mistresses l’Estrange have been training me up for knighthood.’
    Ah. That might explain why they had sent him off with Reynold, hoping that the opportunity might come for a sudden elevation in status.
    ‘And, of course, there might be magic involved.’
    ‘Of course,’ Reynold said in a voice heavily ladenwith sarcasm. At least the sisters weren’t here, exhorting him with various strategies. He could just imagine facing the great beast while they shrilly called out instructions.
    ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to do without the magic,’ Reynold said. So far, their conversation had only made him more aware of the main problem with the task: there were simply no hard-and-fast rules, as there were for tourneying or hunting. All he and his squire had were conflicting reports and half-remembered legends, some more famous than others. ‘What did Beowulf do?’ Reynold asked.
    ‘Well, he didn’t come out of that too well, did he?’ Peregrine asked, subtly reminding Reynold that the hero was mortally wounded in his battle. ‘But I know that he couldn’t have killed the dragon without the help of his faithful squire.’
    So that was it , Reynold thought, as the reason for the discussion became clear at last. Poor Peregrine probably thought he’d be called upon for heroic feats during an epic battle with the beast. Reynold slanted a glance at his squire and tried for a reassuring tone. ‘I really don’t think it will come to that.’
    At least, he hoped not.
    Closing his eyes, Reynold effectively put an end to a conversation that would have seemed ludicrous only a day ago. Next he would be expected